Let Me Put on a Show for You
by dopeinthaface
Summary: ACTUAL RATING: MA This story is post Hogwarts and has more to do with Romilda's human desires rather than her magical life. I left the second party unnamed. I wanted to leave it to the reader's imagination. I like to picture her mystery man as an unsavory wolf. What do you prefer? This is a one-shot. Extremely explicit and not for the faint of heart.


_ R_omilda peered into the entrancing stream that flowed from the faucet, causing a majestic ripple to flow along the inviting water. The fantasy that she was itching to play out in her beautiful yet twisted little mind caused her to become slightly inconvenienced by the rate in which the bath was filling up. In the meantime, the little witch's fingers diligently unlaced her silky robe. Once untied, the bulky material feathered to the floor and her endless ivory skin finally revealed itself. Romilda Vane was undoubtedly a trick mirror. On the outside, she looked like one thing but on the inside she was the exact opposite. Her breasts were small and perfectly round, her light rosy nipples standing high on them. Her flat stomach sloped downward to her innocent blossoming flower. To any bystander, she would appear as nothing but an innocent little girl but on the inside she was as minxy as a goddess.

The young girl's sensuous silhouette glistened in the room that was only dimly lit by intoxicating candles; her delicate hand began to toy with the beret that held her luscious red locks nice and tight in place. When she finally removed the clip and allowed it to litter the floor alongside her only piece of clothing, Romilda's fiery tendrils came tumbling down and rested on her perfectly sculpted shoulders. She felt pleasure sweep through her veins when her decadent light caramel pools noted that the hot oasis was now ready for her.

A frenzy of desire enticed the red head while lowering her succulent curvy flesh into the blistering hot sauna. The young girl knew what she desired was wrong and the mere fact that she was about to play into these twisted fantasies was utterly shameful within itself; but her inner sanctuary throbbed with need, and if she could not truly have him crashing inside of her, destroying her, she could at least pretend. She was safe inside of her own mind, no harm and no foul; who could possibly find out?

Romilda slowly fell back, allowing her sharp shoulder blades to rest against the steam smitten tub. The hot liquid rippled over her light pink rose buds, where they quickly grew firm in the warmth of the delicious water. The petite witch bit against her lower lip sharply, arching the curve of her back; relishing in the warm oasis for a brief moment in time. Her big amber pools swirling with a lustful desire as she peered over to where she _imagined_ he would stand, her little play finally beginning and him with a front row seat. _You know, I'm not in the mood for sweet nothings being whispered into my ear or your fingers running softly through my hair._ This script ran silently through Romilda's demented mind, although she _imagined_ her raspy voice cooing them tenderly to him. _I've had enough of that with everyone else. Don't kiss me – make me bite my lip._ She could hear her own entrancing accent rolling off of the tip of her sharp tongue _within her mind_.

The witch's almond shaped hues slowly fell shut, her long lashes sweeping her soft cheeks. She could drift farther into her fantasy this way. Romilda could hear the water ripple in distress as she removed one of her long porcelain stems from the scented bath water, placing it gracefully along the outer rim of the ceramic tub. As she did this, it caused her feminine silhouette to dip even further into the steam ridden liquid. The tips of her long red barrel curls were now drenched and clung onto her perky bosom for dear life.

Romilda _imagined_ herself locking eyes with the dangerous man from across the room, all the while her palm takes a handful of her supple breast, and the pads of her fingertips eventually giving her swollen and erect nipples the message that they pleaded for. _Would anyone else allow you to watch them do this?_ She would whisper, her voice so throaty and sultry; her free hand traveled southward along the smooth slope of her toned tummy.

Vane's long and delicate fingers finally found their destination, between her buttery thighs. The place, where she _only wished _he could take her with a force so primal and a hunger so violent. The little minx would peer into those magnificent hues of his that captivated her so fully before getting lost in herself and igniting the show for the dangerous man who's_ figment_ stood in the room, drowning in the shadows.

Her slender fingers feather lightly caressed her opening from top to bottom, back and forth, her thick full lips parting slightly in anticipation and her hot breath only adding to the steam within the tiny room. For a slight moment, she _imagined_ that her own dainty fingertips were his own worn and much larger pads, mercilessly teasing her thin slit. This brief lapse in reality elicited a delicious warmth that was so sweet to pulse throughout her succulent silhouette.

Anticipation eventually got the best of her and within no time, Romilda had parted her thighs even more so and two of her delicate digits had slipped inside her slippery folds. Her plump round ass instantly rolled against her own hand, forcing her fingers to dive deeper into her molten core.

Even though the beautiful witch was dipped in water, she found that her velvety folds were also drenched. Her tight, silky and inviting walls were soaked, just like her external frame - if not more so. It amazed her; just how the mere thought and a silly little daydream of this man could withhold such an effect on her. Romilda knew that she had committed such a sin by soaking in this nectar, but she didn't care, the honey continued to pour from her velvety center.

Her walls contracted and clung to her sweet fingers each time she drove them inside herself. Romilda tried to imagine how his throbbing meat would feel inside of her; she imagined that _it_ would be a perfect fit. When this thought crept into her mind, the saucy witch added a third digit inside her melting walls. She twisted her succulent hips over her hand, the hand that which quickly picked up speed and force. A murmur of delight elicited past her luscious lips when the brisk movement of her tiny hand caused the warm water to repeatedly lap against her swollen clit.

Her pads slowly slipped out of her hot walls and trailed up her sweet slit until reaching her pink bud. It felt so good as her tiny fingertips twirled in vigorous circles against herself; she could hardly contain the rush of pleasure that intensified in that moment. Romilda's eyes were still shielded, lost in her own ecstasy and daydream. As her pace heightened, she _imagined_ him watching her, his eyes burning a hole right through her as if coaxing her to let it out – this thought caused her arousal to breach a whole new level. Forcefully, her pearly white sunk into her plush bottom lip in an attempt to muffle a throaty moan. A stress-fully sexy expression etched along her feminine jaw line and doll-like features, the groans trying to break through.

Romilda _imagined_ that he, being the person he was, would vocally demand that the young girl allow herself to sing. To stay true to this lustful dream, the witch finally parted her pink lips and allowed her sultry little voice to whine freely. Her free hand firmly grasped onto the outer edge of the tub as a sort of support mechanism. Her succulent body was on the edge of explosion with every passing moment. Vane's moans and whimpers poured from her throat like water from a pitcher, each jolt of her fingers eliciting its own symphony of noises.

Her moans pushed through her diaphragm, forcefully entering the air in strangled whines, her body hanging on the edge of an orgasm. The beautiful girl's back instantly arched; her breast so high and pert on her perfect chest. Romilda continued to wound her hips against her dainty pads, feeling every flick of her fingertips from a new angle.

She _finally_ trembled uncontrollably, her darling head resting back onto the tub as her screams and whines filled the air. She was sure the whole darkened corridor of The Three Broomsticks could hear her, but in this moment she did not care.

She finally peeled open her caramel pools, her endearing eyes were beautifully gift wrapped – long lashes of velvet ribbon. Now that she had drifted back into reality, her tiny hand slightly cupped her pretty mouth in bewilderment. She could not believe how mind altering that experience was. This little act was supposed to _suppress_ and _calm_ her burning desires for this man, but she feared now that it had only _fueled_ them. The tormented girl quickly tried to shake away these forbidden thoughts. As she removed her hand from her face to tuck her soft wet tresses behind her ears, her diluted (from bath water) yet still faintly present nectar glistened along her chin in the dim flicker of the candle.

Romilda could still feel the remnants of the earthquake that had just taken over every ounce of her being as she unfolded her tall silhouette, removed herself from the tainted water and finally drained the tub. She halfheartedly dried off her petite frame before exiting the large lavatory. Her tiny feet tip toed along the carpeting until the young girl finally made her way to the edge of the plush queen sized mattress, where she finally collapsed.

Vane's bare and damp silhouette sticking to the satin sheets as she crawled beneath them. Once comfortable, the demented darling stared off at the cracks in the ceiling. She saw them as a slight metaphor for herself. She was cracked… and she was not quite sure what was wrong with her. To yearn for such a malicious man was downright ignorant, yet still, the little doll rolled onto her side, closed her eyes and hoped for the endearing dream to visit her again once she fell asleep.


End file.
